Running
by Calumniator
Summary: Rolf Scamander has been traveling his entire life, but not always in the direction he expected.


Amazingly, it's the final round of the QLFC, and so here's my fic for it...we had to write about Falmouth, Cornwall, the area our team is from. I had to write about a romance there. My optional prompts were Run For Your Life, Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. - Ally Condie, and Rampant.

The aquarium here is real, but Moughmough Square is an invention of my team leader's. UuU

* * *

Rolf Scamander had known since he was seven who he was going to marry. Her name was Sally-Anne, she had red hair, and she liked to be the prince when they played Rapunzel. That was all he knew about her when he decided, and he hadn't changed his mind since.

He hoped Sally felt the same way about him. Why would she save him from the tower if she didn't?

When he was nine, his parents died, and everything changed. Instead of a calm, peaceful life with a loving mother and father, he was thrown into a whirlwind led by his grandfather, a master of exploring the world. He saw many things he wouldn't quite remember as an adult, things that only visited him in that place between the conscious and unconscious mind.

But he didn't lose touch with Sally-Anne. They wrote each other constantly, Rolf telling the stories of his adventures with his grandfather, Sally telling him of the books she read, of the friends she made, a low undercurrent of jealously spread throughout her words. His was returned, though- he would have given much to go to Hogwarts with Sally.

Instead he traveled the world.

* * *

They met again when they were seventeen. The war had just ended and she was tired. Tired of the pain and the oppression and the fear, and ready to live. He'd been in Japan the whole year, had missed all of it, had no idea of the horrors going on in his home country. When he returned, it was to a nation now free to grieve.

It was frightening, to see the aftermath of a war he never saw. Sally-Anne was there for him, and he was there for her as she dealt with her own pain. They spent two summers together, and it was the longest he'd stayed in one place since he was nine.

When Rolf was asked what he wanted to do with his life, he replied easily, without a thought. Travel, he said. I want to travel. He'd been traveling so long he wouldn't know what to do without it.

Sally asked him this once, as they sat on the pier, legs swinging and fingers tangled together.

"Travel," he told her, grinning earnestly.

"What about me?" she asked.

"With you," he amended. "Always with you."

She returned his grin, but only after a moment's hesitation.

* * *

"Merlin's beard, I love you," he said, kissing her on the temple. She shied away from it, the same way she always did.

"I love you too, Rolf," she replied, the words falling from her lips easily.

He slung an arm around her neck and pulled her close. "We'll always be together, don't you think?"

"Your grip is too tight," she complained, but he took heart in the way she smiled afterward.

* * *

"I didn't want to come to the aquarium."

Rolf looked at Sally-Anne. She was frowning, fine lines at the corners of her mouth.

"But you said-"

"No," she said. _"You_ said."

"But-"

"Just listen to me," said the girl he'd known he was going to marry since he was seven. "We've grown apart. You were away for too long, Rolf. I don't know you any more. You...you keep saying these things, telling me how much I care for you...but I don't know how to feel."

He looked away, into the fish tank, where one very large fish was chasing a small, speckled one. "Are you saying you need some space?"

She sighed. He could see her chest heave out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face her.

"I lied," she said. "I do know how I feel...I don't love you, Rolf. Not anymore."

He swallowed. "Oh."

She leaned up and pecked him on the cheek one last time. "We've grown apart, but our roots will always be tangled. Don't forget that."

He nodded, teeth gritted. "Have a good life," he managed.

"You too," she said.

Instead of watching her go, he watched the speckled fish swim.

* * *

He stayed in Falmouth. He had money; his grandfather supported him in his travels, and made sure he was funded wherever he went. Sometimes he failed to appreciate how lucky that made him. So he booked himself a room and stayed. With no real home, he had nowhere else to go.

He had a routine. Every morning he woke up, had breakfast in the hotel dining room, used the King James Lecture Theatre entrance to get to Moughmough Square, realized he didn't want to talk to any of the wizards there, and went to the aquarium, where he spend the rest of the day. It hurt, to think more than that. Sally-Anne was gone, and as time passed, he realized it was he who had driven her away.

He liked the aquarium. It wasn't amazing, but it was nice. They weren't afraid to show creepy things either; their exhibits were filled with bones and fossils, right next to the living fish. They were his favorite part, right after watching the big fish chase the speckled fish.

"Run for your life."

He whipped his head around, eyes widening. Those words sounded like something from the war, when evil ran rampant and the good hid in the shadows.

But it wasn't war. He couldn't tell if it was danger, though, not really. He'd spent too much time in the wild to think there was no danger beyond a pretty face.

And a pretty face it was.

"Hello," he said cautiously, suddenly aware of what a mess he must look after weeks of doing nothing but stare at bones and fish..

The blonde woman with the large eyes smiled dreamily at him, shutting her book. She looked rather like a fish herself. "Hello, there. Sorry if I disturbed you. I was speaking to the fish."

"You were?"

He felt dumb, outside and inside, as though his very being was stitched with stupidity. He'd never felt that way with Sally.

"Yes," she said. "The speckled one. He's spent the last few days running from the big fish, you see. I've been rooting for him."

"You've noticed?" he said, surprised, more at himself for never noticing her before. "Have you been here long?"

"Oh, no," she said cheerily. "I just got here. But I can tell. What's your name?"

"Rolf," he said. "Rolf Scamander."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," she said, standing up and walking towards him. "It's nice to meet you. Would you like to look at the fish with me?"

"Yes," he found himself saying, smiling for the first time in what felt like ages. "Yes, I would."


End file.
